Myriad: The Ways Chapter 2

Nea Atul.

         “With fertile land growing crops for the towns and cities in the area, it is a small tahn of around one hundred and fifty Nea. The tahn radiates out from the central square which houses the council building and a fine tavern.” A humph was heard from Nima and many chuckled at this.

         “When the council is not in session the people of this village use it as a meeting place. With its façade reminiscent of the ancient empire that had spread throughout the world only to disappear in what had been an astonishingly rapid collapse. Its’ discordant and somewhat dilapidated architecture at the rear, behind the grand frontage, gave it a tired and strained look.

         Before The Masking, some three hundred and fifty years earlier, the population of Nea Et’ha had declined to a dangerously low level. The race had almost died out after the war with a neighbouring nation of human settlers. This combined with the fact that Nea women folk can only conceive for one short period during their lifetime had a damning effect on their people. This rapid decline forced King Mea to reintroduce the ancient rite of Nea Atul, Elf Sacrifice, to raise the population back to a safe level and ensure the future of his people.

         This ancient ceremony consisted of many parts, all shrouded in secrecy. Only a select few were taught these rites so as to ensure the continuation of the knowledge. The ritual causes Na’ha Cue’A, a forced conception that enables a female to be with child outside of the normal time in her life. A female Nea will normally only conceive at around the end of the first third of her nearly three hundred year lifespan." He paused and sighed. Most of the elders sighed with him.

         The ceremony, Elf Sacrifice, is so named because this act forces the mother to give the light to two children whereas normally she would give birth to a single child. The birth of these twins so damages the mother, that it causes death shortly after.

“How can we do it any longer, Etahne? The sacrifice we ask for is so great and we have asked it of them for so long!” shouted Enahn. The heat of anger coloured his face. Etahne watched him pacing to the window and back to the table again his riding boots striking the wooden floor violently with each step, like a wild horse confined in a stable, fear and anger vying with each other for control.

         “Don’t you think that I know this Enahn?! Do you think that I don’t feel the pain and loss of Atul?” Etahne stopped; the pain conveyed in this quiet statement didn’t go unnoticed by his friends.

After a few seconds he continued, “You know as well as I that three centuries past our race was in danger, and wasn’t it your High Cousin, our King Mea, who decreed this necessary measure?”

         “Aye, and with a heavy heart I bear the fact, now that our population is double what it was and still he will not revoke the decree.”

         “Elah?” Said Etahne, turning to the woman sat quietly at the table. A woman considered short for a Nea, but with the white blonde hair of the elders of her race.

         “My lord?” She said quietly, her smooth voice seemed to calm the two men.

         “You’ve listened to us men prattling on; don’t you have a point to make?”

         “Aye my lord, I have.” She pause, composing herself, then continued.

         “You both know that the women of this community will to do as they are bid by their king until there are none left to do so. You both know that the penalty for those who refuse is excommunication and banishment, which is far worse than dying with honour by means of Atul.” Here she paused. The women of the tahn felt trapped, honour bound to die. Many had come to her, telling of their anguish.

         “So as you see,” she continued, “we have no choice. And neither does you, Etahne.”

         “But…!”

         “And that, Enahn, is the last I will say on the matter!” said Etahne, raising his voice to quiet his friends’ angry outburst. Although they continued these discussions in other occasions, they remained powerless to change things.